


Memorable

by LMT



Category: Eastern Promises (2007)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMT/pseuds/LMT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirill gets assaulted.  Nikolai takes him home.</p><p>Warnings: Nothing graphic, but there are refs to nonconsensual sex acts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bgrrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgrrl/gifts).



Kirill wasn’t yet drunk enough to be vomiting. It was a small bar and a small bathroom; there wouldn’t be a line. Nikolai could think of no explanation for what might be taking him ten minutes in there except that something was  _wrong._  So he shifted on his bar stool and tossed back the rest of his drink. Perhaps it was time to go investigate.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye; another man heading for the restroom. But this man opened the door, jerked in surprise, and closed it right back again.

__

_Definitely_ time to investigate. Nikolai crossed the bar at once and put his hand to the doorknob…

But it swung in at the same moment, and an unfamiliar man pushed past him. This one reeked of liquor, and his face was flushed. He was still closing up his fly. Nikolai made sure to memorize him, just in case.

Kirill was in the bathroom all right, slumped on the floor beside the urinal. He was stirring, so alive, and there was blood on his face but not much. He was clothed and even his watch – a nice one – was still where it should be.

Nikolai bent and checked the two stalls for feet. None. There was a grungy mop leaning against the wall in a bucket, and he took it and wedged it in by the sink across the door so that nobody could burst in on them unexpectedly. Then he knelt down. "Kirill. Are you hurt?"

Kirill’s eyes opened, but they were bright and unfocused. "Kolya?" he croaked.

He hadn’t been this hoarse ten minutes ago. Nikolai sighed. "Are you hurt?"

Kirill started to shake his head, then winced and nodded instead. "My head. He slammed -  _ah!_  Careful."

Nikolai had reached immediately around back to check. No blood, but there was a lump rising already. "Can you stand?"

"I just… I want to sleep," he mumbled. "Kolya, he…" he closed his eyes.

"I know. It’s okay. Let’s get you up." He got arms around Kirill and coaxed him to his feet – slowly. He took him to the sink to clean up. "Did you know that prick?" he asked, and then kicked himself for his choice of words. "Or was it somebody you’ve never seen?"

"Never seen. He said…" Kirill swallowed and stared down into the sink basin. "He said I was looking…" he took in a long stuttering breath and couldn’t finish.

"They say anything." Looking for it, looking at me wrong, looking too pretty to go home alone. There were a thousand things scum could say, and Nikolai didn’t particularly care to hear the gory details. He just needed to know what now. "It is risk for us to disappear him," he said after a moment. "People could ask why."

Kirill shuddered. "No – then let him go. He doesn’t know who I am, he’s… he’s gone."

"Okay. Here." He wet a paper towel and turned Kirill to face him. "Close your eyes." This way he could study the damage more freely. The blood had come from Kirill’s nose, but it wasn’t broken and the bleeding had already stopped. The mess that coated his jaw was mostly drool – thick and stringy, the kind that comes from your throat. Nikolai wiped it away fast. Otherwise, he seemed all right. The most concerning thing was his head; if he’d been slammed hard enough…

Kirill’s eyes snapped open. "I didn’t fucking  _do_  anything," he insisted suddenly, out of the blue. "He just, he jumped me out of fucking nowhere, man."

Nikolai supposed it didn’t matter either way. He nodded. "I know."

"Fuck. Give me tissue." He blew his nose, made a face at the bloody snotty result, and threw the tissue on the floor.

Nikolai handed him a flask. "Here. Rinse."

Kirill swished around a mouthful of vodka and spat violently into the sink. He took another sip and gargled it. Spat again. Shuddered. "All right. Let’s go."

Nikolai snatched his arm. "Wait. Listen." They listened. There were people outside the bathroom, complaining. "If we just walk out together they’ll think…" he cocked his eyebrow, "And we don’t need that. Lean on me. I’ll say I’m helping my drunk friend get home."

Kirill snorted. "You  _are_  fucking helping your drunk friend get home." They splashed vodka over him and draped him around Nikolai’s shoulders. Nikolai kicked the mop out of the way and out they went.

**************************************************************

They got in a cab instead of driving their own car. Nikolai didn’t ask awkward questions like  _why_ ; he didn’t want to force Kirill to say awkward things like  _don’t leave me._

__

He sat by the window and let Kirill slump against him, and then lie down in his lap. For a bit they rode in silence. Then: "How’s my face?"

"It will be okay."

Kirill let out a slow breath. "He hit me once. So I wouldn’t bite. But it’s my head that…"

"I know. We’ll look at home. You might need hospital."

" _No._ " Kirill struggled to sit up. "Don’t tell my father-"

"Okay, okay-"

"If he sees me he’ll know! So don’t take me home. Or to my apartment. Or yours."

Nikolai soothed him back down over his lap and then said, quietly: "So you know people are watching my apartment?"

"Of course people are watching your fucking apartment. Papa’s people, police people, who knows. But I bet you have another one. A secret one. Hm?"

Nikolai shrugged.

"Where is it?"

He shrugged again. "I’ll take us." He leaned over Kirill to give the cabbie new directions, and when he sat back he left his hand resting on Kirill’s neck.

Kirill wriggled, ducked his head, and got the hand on his face instead. He sighed deeply against Nikolai’s palm.

Nikolai didn’t pull away. A moment later he moved to brush Kirill’s lips with his thumb, and murmured, "Shh." Kirill’s jaw relaxed, and Nikolai abruptly pushed two fingers into his mouth.

*****************************************

Kirill’s first response was to jerk in surprise. One arm came up reflexively, but Nikolai’s free hand shot to the wrist, pinning it back down again. "Shh."

"What-" he tried to say.

"Don’t talk," Nikolai answered, mildly.

After that Kirill didn’t resist, mostly because this latest invasion was almost too strange to even believe, much less react to. And besides, this was  _Kolya_. What was Kolya doing? He only stared in shock and let his mouth hang open, let the fingers explore him, touching his teeth, stretching his cheeks, swirling under and over his tongue. Then they began rubbing, rhythmically. At that point, even though he was still not really sure what was going on, Kirill closed his lips to suck.

The calloused fingers had rasped at first, but now they slid wet and slick to the back of his mouth. And back out again. In and out, fucking his face steadily as he lay in Nikolai’s lap getting hard. More than once he had imagined Nikolai touching him somehow, sexually, and generally it was an image he liked but was Nikolai out of his mind to finally do it  _now_ of all times! Tonight, after what had just-…

But when he thought of the man in the bathroom, the retching he had expected did not happen. He could  _remember_  that he’d had someone’s disgusting prick shoved down his throat, but he couldn’t relive it at the moment, not now while his mouth was busy hosting Nikolai’s strong sure hand.

It was gentle for a while, but then it pushed deep enough to threaten his gag reflex. He choked and gurgled, and got a pat on the cheek. "Shh. Suck."

Hearing it aloud was more surreal than anything that had gone before. Kirill did as he was told, shivering as the fingers stroked over his tongue. He hoped Nikolai wouldn’t notice the bulge in his jeans.

The cab had stopped. The cabbie was saying something, but one Look from Nikolai into the rearview had him shutting right up again. Nikolai shifted so that he could look down straight into Kirill’s face.

"Before was nothing," he whispered. "No one. You’ll forget about it. Da?"

Kirill nodded and tried to talk with his mouth full. "Da."

"Look at me. This is what you’ll remember. Only this." He slopped around wetly at the back of Kirill’s throat until Kirill gagged again. "Okay?"

"Okay," he coughed.

"Da?" Slop. Gag. Cough.

"Da."

"Good." Nikolai slid out slowly, and didn’t comment on the way Kirill’s lips lingered longer than they needed to. "Come inside."

********************************************************

The End.


End file.
